He’d kind of forgotten when he walked Amadou over to the hospital that morning. It had been a bad night, and dental hygiene wasn’t exactly the first thing on Lalo’s mind when he rolled out of bed. Now at three, Lalo was back at the compound for a few minutes to grab some lunch and combat halitosis. He squinted into the triangle-shaped mirror that was so crappy and cheap the thing always made his face look like a funhouse escapee. Lalo spit into the tin sink right under the mirror, squirted a little water from the faucet to wash it all down. A leggy cloud of mosquitoes buzzed just over his right hand, waiting to land and have a buffet of Colombian blood for a late lunch. Lalo just left them there. They could only sink their fangs into his hand or face, because the black jeans and long-sleeved shirt would save the rest of him. Tomorrow he was gonna have to give Angry Birds a rest. The gray speckled Mario Bros tee was laid out over the footboard of his bed, washed out in the sink and starting to dry.
